Romance Through the Ages

by Amy Harmon

  Eliza had to force herself not to laugh at her mother’s shocked expression.

  “Thomas Beesley has thankfully turned his attention elsewhere.” It seemed Mrs. Graydon was not to be cowed. “As I told your mother, I support your decision completely. No one should feel pressured to marry, certainly in our modern world—”

  “Well,” Mrs. Robinson interrupted. “Should I call for refreshments?”

  “Lovely,” Mrs. Graydon said, then turned her attention back to Eliza. “Only a week ago, I ran into Mrs. Maughan. Have you met her?” Without giving Eliza a chance to reply, she continued, “Her daughter, Apryl, is engaged to a wealthy man—a Mr. Porter. Anyway, Mrs. Maughan thinks he’s inherited quite a sum from his father’s estate.”

  Yes, I know him.

  As Mrs. Graydon filled her in on all the happenings in New York, Eliza’s thoughts were far from the parlor.

  Later that afternoon, with Mrs. Graydon gone, Eliza was exhausted and begged not to receive any more visitors. Her mother helped make her comfortable in the library by the fire.

  “Your father and I have a dinner engagement tonight. Will you be all right without us?” her mother asked.

  “Of course, Mother. I can ask Bess if I need anything.”

  Mrs. Robinson kissed Eliza’s cheek and left the room. Half an hour later, Eliza heard them leave the house, and she was finally alone.

  Dozing before the fireplace, she thought she heard the bell ring. Bess answered, and a male voice resonated through the hallway. There was some sort of discussion, and Eliza tried to make out what was being said and by whom. The library doors opened, and Jonathan Porter strode into the room.

  Bess hurried after him, protesting, “Sir—”

  Eliza stood a bit awkwardly at the sight of Jon. “It’s all right, Bess.”

  The maid looked from Eliza to Jon, disapproval clear in her eyes. But in a professional manner, she nodded curtly and left, closing the doors behind her.

  Jon stood there gazing at Eliza. She sat in her chair and motioned for him to do the same. He crossed the room and stopped in front of her. She offered him a faint smile, but he remained silent, his eyes searching hers.

  “Hello, Mr. Porter,” she said.

  The sound of her strained voice brought him to his senses. A look of concern passed over his face as his gaze traced the dark bruises on her neck. “Are you all right?”

  Eliza shifted, feeling her face heat up. “Each day is a little better.”

  “Tell me what happened, if it’s not too… painful.”

  She looked down at her lap, tears beginning to fill her eyes. Why am I crying? I haven’t cried since returning home.

  Jon pulled a chair close to hers and sat down, grasping her hand. It was a tender gesture really, nothing more than any gentleman would do, yet it made Eliza’s heart pound harder than it should have.

  “I’m all right.” She pulled her hand away from his.

  “I should have been there,” he said, rising to his feet. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “That man, Gus, is a strange one. I should have seen it from the beginning when he was bothering you in the lighthouse.”

  “How could you have known?”

  Jon ignored her question and changed the subject. “I spent all day reading my mother’s journal.”

  Eliza looked at him, searching his eyes—what had he thought? Had the news devastated him? He seemed more upset at Eliza’s condition than reading about his mother’s broken heart.

  “Your aunt’s murderer was the son of the man who murdered my mother… unbelievable. And,” his voice softened as he looked at her, “he nearly killed you, too.”

  She swallowed hard. Before she knew it, Jon was kneeling in front of her, taking both of her hands in his.

  “Why was he allowed to get away with it?” he asked.

  Eliza looked at her hands enfolded by his. She didn’t know if he was talking about Gus Senior or the one who had attacked her.

  “Both of those men—Gus and my father—used her. How could anyone be so callous?” he said. “My father knew I had been conceived, yet he married another woman. Only later in life did he try to contact me.” He snorted as he added, “to offer me money out of a guilty conscience.”

  She let him continue uninterrupted. She wanted to reach out to him, embrace him, but she didn’t dare—for a number of reasons.

  “My mother had the world against her. Even her parents acted like strangers, and they let her give birth alone and afraid. She waited years for my father to return, only to realize that he had betrayed her.” His head lowered as he exhaled.

  Eliza knew all of this, but she didn’t want to tell him so. She didn’t know what to think about Jon Porter now; she’d never seen him so vulnerable. So sorrowful. She caught a glimpse of the lonely boy he must have been in his youth.

  Without thinking of what she was doing, she touched his cheek. He didn’t move, didn’t pull away, as she ran her fingers along his face then down his neck, stopping at his shoulder. “Jon,” she whispered, “you can’t change the past.”

  His bloodshot eyes seemed to burn through hers. He brought his hand to her neck and lightly touched the brutal markings. Eliza bit her lip, suppressing a gasp as his fingers brushed her skin, but she didn’t move away. His touch was both painful and exhilarating at the same time. She closed her eyes, inhaling his nearness.

  Then she felt his lips on hers, soft at first, hesitant. She couldn’t say she was surprised that he’d kissed her—there had always been something tugging them together—but still, she felt like she was in a dream, that this wasn’t really happening. Couldn’t be happening.

  Yet, it definitely was. As she ran her hands up his chest and behind his neck, kissing him in return, his hesitancy ended. She didn’t know where she found her boldness, but right then, all she knew was that she wanted him closer. She didn’t dare open her eyes, afraid Jon would snap out of whatever trance caused him to touch her, and the dream would end.

  His hand moved along her jaw line, tracing its way to her hair. His kisses were deeper now, possessive, as if he couldn’t get enough. The warmth between them turned hot, spreading to every part of her body. He pulled her upward until they were standing together, and she was fully in his arms. Every curve of hers seemed to fit perfectly against the length of his body.

  “Eliza,” he whispered, kissing her neck, the hollow at her throat, and then his mouth was back to hers. Her lips parted, and she welcomed them eagerly. It was as if she was a different person, not herself, but one with Jon, in another existence that was theirs alone.

  Then as suddenly as the kiss had begun, it ended.

  Jon released her and took a step away, his breathing ragged. “I’m sorry,” he said, running his hands through his hair. But the way he was staring at her said he was anything but sorry. “I’d better stick to letter writing from now on.”

  “Jon—” She didn’t want him to be sorry—but what had this meant? He was engaged, after all. What had they done?

  He leaned toward her and brushed a stray tendril from her cheek. “Your face has haunted my dreams, Eliza,” he said softly. Then he dropped his hand, as if he’d touched something hot.

  Eliza lifted her face to his, wanting to kiss him again, wanting to hold him and not let go. His eyes searched her face, but sorrow had crept into them. He closed his eyes, exhaling. And at that moment, Eliza knew he was saying good-bye.

  “But I don’t believe in dreams,” he said. “Forgive me. I’ve taken advantage of you, and I will not do so again.”

  Tears welled in her eyes; she turned away, not wanting to see him leave. She heard the library door open and shut softly. And then he was gone.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The following morning, Jon canceled all his appointments and sent a note to Apryl, inviting her to the matinee. He planned to spend the day with her, and hopefully, erase the memory of the previous evening. Maybe last night’s after-dinner sherry had affected him more than he’d realize
d. But today, sitting in his library, Jon knew that alcohol was not responsible for his behavior with Eliza. In fact, he would like nothing better than to repeat it. And he believed she felt the same way.

  Jon slammed his fist on the desk. Damn her. Damn me. Pressing his fingers against his temples, he tried to massage her out of his mind. Maybe he should move to England. Put an ocean between them. He opened his eyes and stared straight ahead. That was the answer. He and Apryl could elope and honeymoon in Europe. Eliza would meet another man, and eventually everyone would be happy. No promises would be broken, no scandals would arise, and no political career blackened.

  He would not be like his father, abandoning the woman he’d committed himself to.

  He spent the rest of the morning taking care of correspondence. By noon, he was ready to leave and instructed Richards to prepare the carriage. As an extra touch, he brought wine and flowers. Arriving at the Maughans, he was surprised to see another carriage parked in front of their home—a sleek burgundy one—belonging to one Thomas Beesley.

  Jon was led into the hall, and he insisted on waiting there. Merry voices floated from the drawing room, but he resisted the urge to inspect. Soon, Thomas, Apryl, and her parents appeared.

  “Why, Jon, you’ve arrived.” Apryl crossed over and kissed his cheek. “Thomas was just telling us that he has enlisted your help in a business matter concerning Mr. Robinson.”

  Jon shot a look at Thomas, who met his gaze smoothly. “We don’t have the particulars worked out, but I’m sure the joint venture will be more than successful.”

  “If I know Mr. Beesley,” Mr. Maughan said, patting Jon on the back, “You’ll be generously compensated.”

  Jon kept his gaze on Thomas. “I’ve no doubt about that, sir.”

  “Well, then, it’s settled,” Apryl said brightly, then her face drew into a pout. “I asked Thomas if he would like to accompany us to the theater, but he said he didn’t want to intrude.”

  Thomas smiled boldly at Jon, gallantly spreading his arms. “I’m a man who knows my place.”

  Everyone laughed except Jon.

  Even after Apryl and Jon were seated in the carriage, Jon was still scowling.

  “Oh, don’t be so sour,” Apryl said.

  He turned to her. “I thought you weren’t going to have anything more to do with that man.”

  Apryl’s eyes widened. “He stopped over this morning to return something my mother left at his estate. When he started talking about doing business with you, I thought that all ill feelings had passed between you two, so there was no harm in keeping my friendship with him.”

  Jon didn’t answer. On one hand, he couldn’t stand Apryl’s association with Thomas. On the other, if Apryl believed that Jon wanted to work for Thomas, it might make things easier between them. Apryl seemed to revere Thomas, and Jon didn’t want that to come between them.

  “Perhaps I’ve been too quick to judge,” he said.

  Apryl leaned over to kiss him. Jon met her lips, noticing the lack of warmth in her touch, as if their affection had become a formality.

  Nothing about kissing Eliza the night before had been cold or remote, but he forced himself to clear her from his mind. “Let’s make a toast to a day of nothing but frivolity.”He brought out the wine and two flutes. Apryl giggled.

  “My lady,” he said nobly and poured a glass. Then the carriage hit a bump, and a few drops splashed across Apryl’s chest.

  She burst out laughing. “How am I going to explain already smelling like wine to my mother?”

  Jon joined her laughter and realized he’d gone several seconds without thinking about Eliza.

  Soon they arrived at the theater, which was already crowded. It seemed that everyone decided to see Henry IV that afternoon at the Bowery. Jon and Apryl greeted a few friends before they found their seats in the balcony. Moments later, excited chatter rose around them. Everyone was looking at the couple entering the main doors: President Martin Van Buren, his son Abraham, and daughter-in-law, Angelica.

  Jon rose in respect and bowed as the presidential party passed their balcony entrance. President Van Buren nodded, and both Abraham and his wife smiled. When they had moved on, Apryl touched Jon’s arm. “Did you see that? I think he recognized you.”

  “I don’t think so, my dear,” he said, amused with Apryl. “I met him only briefly a year ago.”

  “You have something about you that draws people,” Apryl said, her eyes shining.

  He chuckled. “You’re being overgenerous.”

  “Jon, I’m serious. They say the president’s daughter-in-law now presides as the lady of the White House ever since his wife passed.”

  “Perhaps that’s best.”

  They returned to their seats, and Apryl scanned the crowd beneath them, intermittently pointing out an acquaintance. Jon found himself nodding but not really listening.

  “How odd,” Apryl said rather loudly.

  Jon glanced at her. “What is it?”

  “Look there.” She tilted her head toward the audience below. “Third row.”

  He saw Thomas Beesley squeezing his way through an aisle. A young woman, obviously not his sister, led the way. Soon they were settled, talking animatedly.

  Apryl sniffed. “Well, he could at least have told me that he declined my invitation because he was already coming.”

  Jon looked sharply at Apryl, who continued to gaze at the lively couple. “It’s none of our business.”

  “You’re right. I don’t know why I let it bother me.” She tore her eyes away from the couple and focused on the rising curtain. The music started, quelling all audience conversation.

  Each time Jon stole a glance at Apryl, he saw her glumly watching Thomas. Jon’s neck grew hot beneath his collar. Thomas Beesley had probably planned this very incident to cause Apryl to grow envious. But why should Apryl be jealous, unless she had feelings for Thomas? That’s what bothered Jon the most.

  During the intermission, Jon remained in his seat. When Apryl left for the powder room, he found himself watching Thomas. To Jon’s surprise, he saw Apryl approaching him. It appeared as if introductions were made, and then Apryl pointed to her seat in the balcony. Jon looked the other way to avoid being caught spying.

  Moments later when Apryl returned, she was breathless with two bright spots on her cheeks. “I happened to see Thomas. He introduced me to his companion.”

  “Oh?”

  “The woman is his next-door neighbor, and her escort became ill at the last minute. That’s how Thomas happened to come with her.”

  Jon looked at Apryl. “And did he apologize for turning you down?”

  “Most profusely,” she said, smiling. “It’s not like I care who he’s courting; I just don’t want him to have another awful experience like he did with Eliza Robinson.”

  He bit back a retort. “We only know one side of that story.”

  “You can’t be taking her side.” Apryl arched her brow.

  “The people who gossip about her don’t even know her.” Jon glanced away, knowing he’d probably said too much. “Innocent until proven guilty.”

  Apryl scoffed. “One would think you knew her, Jon.”

  Jon didn’t reply. He stared straight ahead, waiting for the next act to begin. He hadn’t intended to argue with Apryl. It was only that he hated to hear Eliza being criticized by those who didn’t even know her.

  After the play ended, Apryl and Jon left together silently. Once outside, they greeted Thomas as if there had never been contention between them.

  “Mr. Porter?” a man called out.

  Jon turned and found Mr. and Mrs. Robinson standing before him. Behind them stood Eliza. She wore a large hat with a veil that concealed her eyes. The lace at her neckline was ruffled, obscuring any signs of discoloration on her neck.

  “Good afternoon.” Jon hadn’t expected to see Eliza so soon… or ever again. His collar felt too tight, and he needed a good dose of cold air.

  Apryl linked her arm
through his, drawing close to him.

  “Let me introduce Apryl Maughan,” he said, recovering somewhat of his senses. “Apryl, this is Mr. and Mrs. Robinson and—”

  “Our daughter, Eliza,” Mr. Robinson interjected.

  Jon was surprised that Apryl didn’t faint on the spot. She put on her best smile and said in a honeyed voice, “Pleasure to meet you.” She pressed against Jon’s side, as if making it clear to Eliza that they were engaged. Which was ridiculous, because of course they were engaged, and Eliza knew it as well as anyone.

  “It’s our pleasure,” Mrs. Robinson said. “I know your mother through the social engagements.”

  “I’ll tell her we met you then.” Apryl looked past the woman and openly appraised Eliza.

  Jon cringed. He would hear about Apryl’s opinion of Eliza soon enough. For now, he wanted to put needed distance between himself and Eliza. “Nice to see you again,” Jon said as they left.

  Once inside the carriage, Apryl wasted no time in delivering her pronouncement. “What a coincidence! She was prettier than I expected, but I couldn’t exactly tell because of her veil. It’s no wonder Thomas fell in love with her, but her personality was quite unremarkable. She hardly spoke a word. I’d think Thomas wouldn’t have been happy with that for long. He needs someone who can equal him in conversation, keep him interested.” She paused for only a second. “I wonder if Thomas saw her.”

  “I’m sure they would greet each other like civilized people,” he said in a tight voice.

  Apryl stared out the window for a few moments. “She was a dainty thing,” she said. “Not a good match for a robust man such as Thomas.”

  Agreed, Jon thought.

  “I wish I’d gotten a better look at her, but I could tell she has an innocent-type beauty. She’s surely used to being pampered.”

  “Pampered? How could you tell?” he asked.

  She jabbed him in the ribs. “Oh, really, Jon. You say the funniest things sometimes. Did you not notice that porcelain doll skin and perfectly styled hair? She obviously has a half-dozen maids and spends every moment indoors with them at her beck and call.”